CHAPTER 268: ELEGANCE AND AUTHORITY ( 268 )

Beastkin Kingdom — Royal Palace, Court Hall

The court chamber buzzed with murmurs and the rustle of fine robes as high-ranking nobles gathered beneath the towering stone columns and golden banners of the Lioness Dynasty.

Two figures had already arrived early, seated with poised expressions:

Duke Belard and Marquis Reynard—both high nobles of beastkin blood, dressed in ornate ceremonial coats tailored to their families’ status.

They sat silently, eyes scanning the chamber. Neither spoke, but their presence drew quiet deference from the surrounding nobles.

The doors opened again, and in walked a third figure.

Viscount Gurman, broad-shouldered, well-groomed, with a proud stride and ears perked straight with excitement. His fine coat was newly tailored, trimmed in silver lining. His tail swayed with energy.

He bowed respectfully as he entered.

He was beaming.

"The king himself summoned me... and in the royal decree—it’s official. Promotion. I’m going to be a Count!"

His heart thudded in his chest.

"Heh... good thing I got on the good side of that black-haired human. Hazuki, was it? Not only did he save my town from that rift-born beast..."

Gurman’s smile widened as he took a seat among the lesser lords.

He adjusted his collar proudly.

"Yes... YES. This is the reward. My highest promotion yet. To Count."

"YEAH!!" he shouted internally.

On the outside, he simply sat with a proud little smirk and a nobleman’s calm.

But inside?

Victory dance.

Meanwhile, seated with a composed yet sharp expression, Duke Belard quietly observed the nobles gathering.

His long cloak draped neatly behind him, the silver crest of his house gleaming under the court lights. But his mind was elsewhere—focused, calculating.

"Princess Ellyna..."

She was no longer just the flower of the Beastkin Kingdom.

She was the talk of every major noble court. Even foreign emissaries had started whispering her name.

Not just for her royal bloodline.

But for her power.

The Absolute Eye. A skill lost for centuries. A rarity that no scholar, mage, or noble dared to ignore.

Belard clenched his jaw subtly.

"The problem is..."

"I can’t even get near her."

He remembered well—the failed kidnapping attempt. The cover-up. The silent bribes. The whispers buried before they became scandal.

He had sent his best assassin, his elite tracking unit, forged by coin and secrecy.

Yet they couldn’t even find her partner.

That black-haired human.

That unknown, unranked, unremarkable outsider—until recently.

Hazuki.

Belard’s sharp nails tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair.

"That damn human..."

Even his spy reports were vague. Missing. Misdirected. Like something—or someone—was protecting him.

He forced a breath through his nose and composed himself, lips curling into a subtle frown.

"Fine. I’ll wait. But even pinky promises can be broken. And once they do..."

His eyes narrowed.

"I’ll have what’s mine."

The grand doors of the court hall opened with a resonant creak, followed by the heavy footsteps of royal procession.

All voices quieted.

Standing tall with an air of unquestionable dominance, King Lioness III entered, draped in crimson and gold robes lined with battle-forged medals and ceremonial fur. His presence alone was enough to silence even the boldest noble.

Behind him, the Royal Elite Guard followed in disciplined formation—clad in white and obsidian armor, their eyes sharp, their movements in perfect sync.

The king stepped forward and ascended the steps to the throne, then sat down upon it—majestic, poised, unshaken.

The chamber shifted immediately.

On both sides, the ministers, high officers, and senior advisors stood respectfully at their designated places—scrolls in hand, some nodding lightly in preparation for the king’s words.

Then—

Another set of steps echoed through the chamber.

The door opened again, and entering with upright posture and quiet strength was none other than Prince Leonhart, the eldest son of the king.

He approached the dais and took his seat on the adjacent side of the throne, a step below his father—positioned perfectly to show his role as first in line.

At that moment—

Every noble in the chamber stood.

Heads lowered slightly.

A formal, unified bow swept across the room.

From Duke Belard to Viscount Gurman, even the lower lords—all bowed in silence.

The court was ready.

The audience had officially begun.

As the nobles held their bows, another soft rustle echoed through the hall.

From the left corridor, a regal figure entered—Queen Meira.

Dressed in flowing silver and emerald robes, she moved with graceful authority. Her long dark hair, touched faintly with age and dignity, was tied back in formal braids. Her sharp eyes surveyed the court with gentle calm, but a commanding presence.

She approached the throne and took her place beside King Lioness, on a slightly smaller seat designed for the Queen Consort.

With her arrival, the formal seating was almost complete.

But one chair—just beside Prince Leonhart’s—remained empty.

King Lioness leaned slightly toward his queen, his voice a quiet murmur only she could hear.

"Where is Ellyna?"

Queen Meira answered softly without looking up, "Faria has already called for her."

The king gave a small nod.

"Good. I want her present for official gatherings like this. She needs to learn."

Meira gave a slight smile. "She will."

Despite the formal setting, there was a flicker of warmth in their exchange—parents preparing their daughter for the world she would inherit, not just by blood, but by duty.

Around them, nobles remained standing until the king raised his hand slightly—a silent gesture.

All at once, the lords and ministers returned to their seats, the hum of court now awaiting the next arrival.

The one whose seat still stood empty.

The heavy doors at the far end of the court opened once more.

Walking in with quiet grace was Mrs. Faria, head held high, her expression composed—but her pace steady.

Beside her—

Princess Ellyna.

And the moment she entered, the entire court seemed to freeze.

Noble eyes, regardless of age, snapped toward her.

Some stared wide-eyed. Others subtly leaned forward. But none could ignore her.

She was...

Beautiful.

Golden hair that shimmered under the high chandeliers.

Golden eyes, calm but piercing—carrying a sense of deep awareness.

Her figure, elegant and poised, with curves shaped by maturity and boobs just the right size to stir both admiration and jealousy, depending on who was looking.

She walked like she belonged—royal by presence, not just blood.

And yet...

There was a quiet confidence in her stride.

A calm, natural grace that couldn’t be faked.

She didn’t need jewels to shine.

She was the jewel.

Not just elegant. Not just beautiful.

But talented—beyond what any nobleman could grasp.

Her presence wasn’t something that simply drew attention...

It pulled.

It stirred.

Even from a distance, some men shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their thoughts slipping beyond courtly manners.

She was the kind of woman who—just by walking—could awaken the most primal instincts in a man.

The kind that made powerful nobles aroused, without even realizing it.

( End Of Chapter )